Sunrise
by Ice-chan Queen of Soy
Summary: Following the dramatic events of "Legacy", Superman recieves an unannounced visitor.


Here I am going to take a stab at a one shot post-"Legacy" story, which was inspired by several songs and an RPG. Hope you all like it. ( Many thanks to Olivia - for many, many reasons, I couldn't have done this without you.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything here but the writing itself.  
  
Sunrise  
  
by The Vampire Kalista  
  
Dark days lay ahead of him; they had already begun. Metropolis had never seemed so black as it did on the night of the lunar eclipse. Alone, in the sky, his thoughts as turbulent as the ocean, it was like drowning in a black sea, waiting for a wobbling beacon of light and seeing nothing.  
  
Yet this could describe the duration of time between a collage of events, all of the same morbid theme. Because of both the eclipse and the fall of great hero, a sort of moral decay went into immediate effect; this had to be the busiest night for criminals of all sorts. Superman hadn't even bothered going to bed.  
  
He probably wouldn't have slept anyway. . .  
  
He did, however, return to his apartment for a few moment's peace when the city seemed to finally slow down. It was nearly four o'clock when he landed on his balcony, cape sweeping against his back and legs. There was no breeze; it was so deathly silent. Numbly, he unlocked the door and slid it open.  
  
When he stepped inside, everything was still cloaked in darkness. But something didn't seem right. The loneliness, the emptiness-it was still there, spreading inside him like a cancer. On the outside, however, his senses told him to be alert, to be ready.  
  
He wasn't alone.  
  
Somewhere under the layers of dark, thin air in his heart, Clark felt just a little irritated, but his voice instead betrayed his weariness: "Is there a reason why you've broken into my apartment?"  
  
If darkness could move, it did now: Clark saw the nearly invisible outline of two finely pointed bat ears moving towards him. "I always have a reason," came the raspy reply.  
  
"And what might that be?" Now there was a little more force in his voice so that it sounded almost bitter.  
  
Now the Batman stood just a foot away from him. "You know why I'm here, Kent," he ground. "And no, I'm not leaving if this is a bad time."  
  
Every time the two confronted each other, a composed, yet seething battle of words and ideologies was inevitable. Thus, Superman sighed and said, "Bruce, I'm *really* not the mood. . ." He almost started to say more, but he couldn't think of any words.  
  
"You never will be."  
  
That was true, Clark noted numbly. The realization weighed down on him like.like..oh, he didn't know what. But the force seemed to crush him into the very earth.  
  
Batman moved past Clark, presumably to the window. "How are they taking it?"  
  
Clark didn't even have to ask who Bruce was talking about. "You've heard the news," he said quietly. "No one trusts me anymore. No one wants me around." He paused, waiting for a response, but none came. Clark shut his eyes briefly, as though to clear his thoughts. "I thought about leaving," he confessed.  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Batman paused before he said, "It will pass."  
  
Clark gave a short, humourless laugh. "You don't even know the half of it."  
  
Batman turned halfway to look at him. "Tell me, then."  
  
For a moment, Clark thought of the easiest and fastest way to explain himself. Mentally bracing himself, he began, "I lost control-three days ago. I went to Apokolips. I fought. . .him. He was weak. . .I was ready to strike. . .I. . ."  
  
Clark suddenly fell silent; the words were caught in his throat. He didn't want to continue.  
  
But Batman didn't let anything get by him. "And then what happened?" he asked, a little more gently than usual.  
  
Hearing Batman speak seemed to help Clark focus again. "I almost killed him," he continued, his voice unsteady. "I would have if Supergirl hadn't stopped me. I was just so angry. . .all I could see was red. I lost control. . .I almost killed. . . ." He rubbed his temples, and his mouth was twitching.  
  
The answer to this was brief, simple, and unexpected: "But you didn't."  
  
"No. . ." Clark said, a little confused. "No, I didn't. But I almost-"  
  
"But you didn't."  
  
"But-I-"  
  
"But. You. Didn't."  
  
These words ranged in his head, in the dead of the dark, in the infinite night of the lunar eclipse. They were wonderful words to hear-but a shadow fell over them. Clark was not fooled.  
  
Some things were just too good to be true.  
  
"Bruce, you're missing the point," he said. "What if I'm not so lucky the next time?"  
  
"No, you're missing the point," Batman countered. "It's not luck, Clark. It's *you*." He stopped, waiting for Clark to respond. But the silence only proved Clark's skepticism, so he continued, "We've all been closer to crossing the line than we'd like. You didn't cross it. Let that be enough."  
  
But Clark only shook his head. "You don't get it. How could you get it?."  
  
"What don't I get?" Bruce snapped, turning around fully to face him, cape fluttering briefly behind him.  
  
Now Superman approached him at his full height, glaring daggers at him. "What don't you get? My circumstance-*that's* what you don't get! Do you know what it's like to be the last of your kind? Do you know what it's like to have such an incredible power which can be used as an efficient tool for destruction? I don't trust myself with this power. I lost control once, and I can do it again. Even if it's an accident-even if I'm just being used by someone like Darkseid who-who-"  
  
His voice shook towards the end of his outburst, and his fists also trembled with rage as the words escaped him once more. He squeezed his eyes shut as he kept his head down, trying to master his now heavy breathing.  
  
Outside, the first rays of sunlight peeked through the dying darkness, and the night sky was beginning to take its usual form of dark blue. Everything in the room was beginning to take a phosphorescent glow so that even Batman didn't blend in with the night as much as usual.  
  
Swiftly, Batman was at his side; Clark could feel his presence, even as he stared ahead of him. "In each battle I face," Batman began, his voice slightly strained, "do you know how many times I almost kill? And do you know what stops me?"  
  
Superman shook his head.  
  
"My parents. Alfred. Tim. Sometimes even the victim. These things remind me that I shouldn't take a life because they mean too much to me." He stopped, perhaps waiting for a response, but none came.  
  
Instead, Superman just turned to look at him. What Batman said was so personal; they had not collaborated very often, but even so, he had never heard Bruce mention his parents. It seemed unusual that he should care enough to say something like that, but somehow it made Clark feel better. He didn't know what to say. And for once, Batman said something about dealing with criminals that Clark actually agreed with.  
  
Maybe he wasn't such a vigilante after all.  
  
For several minutes they stood in silence, deep in thought. This was hardly uncommon for Batman, but Superman felt that, however intimidating and possibly mad that the Batman was supposed to be, this silence was not intense but comfortable. Since Superman had returned, he had wanted nothing but to hide from the world.not even Lois Lane could really understand. No one who had been close to him could understand. But Batman.Batman was not close at all. And perhaps it was this distance, this invisible wall between them, that allowed Batman to be his most appreciative and confidential listener.  
  
Yet the truth remained that Clark's predicament was not at all that simple, and it was one which he could share with no one. Batman respected this silently. He had so much power-the damage he could inflict upon the world- the universe-was unfathomable to Clark. . . And who knew what he had done under Darkseid's control! Not anything pretty-that much was obvious. Even though Clark was biologically Kryptonian, he had been raised by humans, been raised human himself, and, in a way, identified himself as a human. He felt human emotions. And if he had almost lost control as a human-if he had let his anger get the better of him once-how long would it be before he would do it again? And if he did choose to leave, could he bear the loneliness?  
  
Superman chose this time to speak. He shook his head-his neck was actually stiff. "I appreciate your words," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "but. . .it's different. How can I ever trust myself again?"  
  
The soft glow of the room made everything seem evanescent, almost unreal. Clark's arms hung limply by his side, and, with his head hanging and his eyes shut, he looked defeated. Slowly, he opened his eyes and raised his hands and examine them idly. They were soft, yet strong-dexterous. Powerful. And dangerous. They could crush mountains as well as move them. Easily.  
  
So easily. . .  
  
If it weren't for his acute hearing, Superman wouldn't have noticed as Batman approached him. But one thing Clark definitely didn't expect was a gloved hand to grasp one of his own. The black leather was cold, and the hand inside it was strong and confident, but-most of all-it was reassuring. Clark looked up at Batman himself, who in fact was staring straight back. He tilted Clark's hand to the side and gripped it more tightly, forming a firm handshake.  
  
"I can't help you with that," he murmured. He frowned deeply. "But until you do. . .*I* trust you."  
  
Neither spoke; no words were necessary. Here, in his hour of need, someone had come to Clark-and did his best to help. This brand of physical contact, however dignified it may be, was so out of character for Batman to initiate. To do so on Clark's behalf made it seem as though for a moment- just a moment-Bruce had sacrificed something huge, like a part of himself. Clark's gripped tightened-not out of both their usual challenging manner, but out of respect and trust. And when he did so, his strength had not intensified dramatically, but naturally. It seemed that there was nothing to fear.  
  
That moment seemed to last an eternity. Yet when, Batman's hand slid out of Clark's grasp and he headed towards the balcony door. Clark felt something small and rough in his hands, but he didn't look at it. He was watching Batman pull something out of his belt-a grappling hook-and opened the balcony door. A light breeze drifted into the apartment. He stepped onto the balcony. . .  
  
But then Batman paused and turned halfway around to look at him. "You're lucky, you know," he said.  
  
"How am I lucky?" Clark asked wearily.  
  
Batman observed him quietly for a moment. "You have people to lean on," he said softly. "Parents, to lean on." Then he shot his grappling hook at a nearby building and launched himself into the sky.  
  
For a moment or so, Superman watched Batman swing through the heavens until he was no more than a black spec, while the soft, cool breeze had an almost calming effect on him. "Thanks."  
  
Remembering the what Bruce had left him in his hand, Superman unclenched his fist and saw a small card. In fine black print, it read:  
  
DR. LESLIE THOMPKINS  
(987) 555-2380  
6810 Park Row, Gotham City  
  
The note was rather surprising, but he could guess what this person's profession was. He wasn't sure what to think of it, especially considering who gave it to him, so he slid it into a compartment in his belt. Then he slid the door closed and slowly turned to face his apartment.  
  
It seemed to come alive: As the rising sun cast its beautiful golden rays over the world, so did his bedroom. The light bounced off of picture frames on his dresser, producing a brief, but strong white light.  
  
The darkness of the eclipse had ended; now, there were only lurking shadows. And much difficulty.  
  
But when six o'clock came, the alarm clock by his bed emitted a soft hum of the last few notes of a Beatles song, which was followed by the DJ's excited voice:  
  
"You're listening to WKLJ at six a.m. Beautiful morning, isn't it? Last night wasn't a very good night to be out, all things considered, but man, look at that sunrise!--today is a new day. Whoa-this just in. United Airlines flight 562, going from London to Metropolis, is going down. It is currently flying over the northern Metropolis suburbs. At the moment, it is unclear just what caused this interference, but if the plane crashes in the city-and there is a good chance that it will, officials say-much damage can be expected. . ."  
  
The balcony door was left open as Superman took off in a flash of red and blue. 


End file.
